


Paperback Writer (I Want to Be)

by pizzagirl



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Gen, Holidays, Parades, Short & Sweet, because Prince is awesome, gratuitous boy meets world references, lying liars who lie, nerdy legal humor, references to Prince lyrics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-11 01:06:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2047278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pizzagirl/pseuds/pizzagirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>It's a thousand pages, give or take a few</i><br/>I'll be writing more in a week or two<br/>I can make it longer if you like the style<br/>I can change it round and I want to be a paperback writer<br/>----------------------</p>
<p>Various ficlets I've written of varying lengths, mostly originally posted on my Tumblr.<br/>You can find me there: eyebrowsofjustice (dot) tumblr (dot) com</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Overprotective Friends with Bad Taste in TV Shows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint drops by Darcy's place to check up on her and her new "friend."

 "American Pickers? Really?" Clint was leaning against the fridge, quirking an eyebrow curiously.

Darcy gave him a light punch in his arm. “Oh shut up, Mr. #1 Dog Cops Fan. It’s one of the few shows that he makes a point of watching regularly and doesn’t get angry at.” She shrugs, looking out at the lone figure sitting out on the couch. “Plus, when I watch it with him, if they come across something he recognizes, he tells me stories about it.”

Clint’s brow furrows. “Still don’t know how I feel about you hanging out with the Winter Soldier, Darce.”

She glares at him. “Good thing I’m not hanging out with him then.”

"Oh you know what I mean," Clint snarks back.

She narrows her eyes. “No, I know what you implied, and as we’ve discussed before, the person I’m hanging out with, and who is my roommate, is Bucky Barnes.”

"Who doesn’t want his longtime BFF knowing where he’s living. Why are you indulging him?" Clint crosses his arms over his chest, starting to look more like Agent Barton.

Darcy pokes him in his chest. “This is not a conversation I need to be having with you. One, because you have no say over my life, as you’re my friend. Two, because Bucky is also my friend, and I help my friends, as you’ve experienced. And three, Phil doesn’t have a problem with this, and he’s a friend, which leads me to my conclusion … friends don’t judge. Friends help. You’re not helping by judging.”

"Phil?"

She sighs. “That’s what you took from that?”

"It’s the first question that came to mind that didn’t involve yelling, yes," he replies, nodding.

"He asked to not be called Son of Coul, as he didn’t particularly care for my Thor impersonation. So I asked if I could call him Phil, just to see what he’d do. To my surprise, he said yes." She smirks.

Clint chuckles. “I can see that, and Darce, I’m not trying to judge. But I just worry. Friends worry, right?”

She nods. “They do, but seriously, we’ve been over this. If Phil doesn’t worry, and isn’t worrying, then don’t let this keep ruffling your feathers, Hawkeye. I’ve got a pretty good gut-feeling-sense for when things aren’t a-okay. It’s like my version of a Spider-Sense. And it isn’t tingling here. Plus, this has been happening for longer than you know without problems.” She leans in closer and pats his cheek. “So run off to wherever you’re nesting, or schedule some time for the two of you to have your very manly shoot-off, because I know you guys feel you have to do that, as I think there’s a new episode of Dog Cops coming on in like twenty minutes.”

Clint stares at her, wishing he could completely follow her logic. But, he figures, if Phil believes in her in this situation, and if the Winter Sol-, no _Bucky_ , has gotten better by spending time with her, then maybe things are good here. He smiles at her and tells her to have a good night, leaving just as quietly as he entered.

Darcy walks back into the living room, sitting down next to Bucky on his left side.

"Wasn’t sure he was going to leave," he murmurs to her, wrapping his metal arm around her shoulders. She snuggles in.

"I know. It was a mistake giving him a spare key in case I locked myself out," she answers, laying her head on his shoulder.

Bucky turns to look at her, a fond look in his eyes, but a slightly wicked smile tugging at his lips. “I could always help you with some lock adjusting tomorrow.”

She grins. “We’ll see.”


	2. I Love a Parade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes Avenging includes keeping Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade balloons from escaping.

There was a buzzing noise on the comms.

"Hawkeye Awesome to Hawkeye Boring. Sit rep?"

With a sigh, another person answered. “Same as before, Hawkeye Asshole.”

Natasha heard the person positioned next to her snort. She turned to see Barnes smirking. “Are they always like this?”

She shrugged. “More or less. Barton set himself up for it with trying to go as Hawkeye Alpha on the comms today.”

"You know I can hear you two," Barton said. He looked down from his perch at the crowd waiting for the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade to reach his location. "Hey, base, any ETA on the actual parade? And maybe a weather update?"

Darcy hurried over from the stove to the breakfast bar where she had her laptop open. Steve, who was checking on the turkey’s temperature, looked at her and chuckled.

"For an easy ‘keep the balloons from escaping’ mission, Clint’s trying to maintain some sense of protocol, huh?"

Her eyes widened. “Have we been listening to the same thing, Steve? Seriously.”

He smirked, closing the oven door, and walking over to her. She then saw the twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “Seriously.”

"Base to Hawkeye Alpha Alfonso Ribeiro, your first balloon should be there in less than five minutes. Weather shows temps holding steady. As far as wind … gusts are expected to rise, so it looks like you guys’ll need to hang tight for at least another half hour."

"Darce, are ya making extra dressing? Steve may have stuffed the bird, but he’s a growing boy, and so am I," Bucky asked. He could see the first balloons rounding the corner from the top of the building he and Natasha were on. At the Tower, Steve groaned. The comms picked it up, causing everyone but Clint to laugh.

"Guys, c’mon, we’ve gotta keep the channel clear. Thanks for the update base. Back to watching for any strays." Clint sighed and went back to watching the street below.

Kate was a few blocks up being assisted by that Noh-Varr she kept denying she was seeing. Natasha and Bucky were a few blocks back. Tony and Pepper were visiting her parents for the holiday, and Bruce was attending a conference. Thor was on Asgard with Jane. Steve had offered to help out with the balloon situation, but his shield wouldn’t really come in handy with them. Everyone else had modified their equipment to shoot some form of netting in case of a wayward balloon tried to escape its handlers’ grasps.

Suddenly there was a thud behind him. He reached for his sidearm and turned around to see … Spiderman?

"Hey there Hawkguy. It’s just me, your friendly neighborhood Spiderman out for a pre-Thanksgiving meal swing. No need for alarm." He held his hands up to show he meant no harm.

Clint relaxed. “Caught me a bit by surprise is all.” He turned back towards the street just in time to see the Spiderman balloon go by.

"Yeah, that’s definitely not weird at all," Spiderman said. Clint laughed. Spiderman smiled behind his mask. "Doesn’t get less weird seeing each year, either. You’d think it would."

"One would think that," Clint agreed. "So what’re you _really_ doing out?”

Spiderman shrugged. “Eh, thought I’d try and catch some of the parade. My Aunt May’s volunteering at the local shelter today, so I’ve got a bit of time to kill. Figured why watch the parade on TV when I could see it live.”

Clint tapped his ear. “Hawkeye Awesome to base. Do we have room for one more for our meal?” Spiderman quirked his head to the side. Clint nodded and rolled his eyes before grinning. “Katie-Kate’s out here, too. I’m Alpha and she’s Beta. She didn’t go for that, so I improvised.”

"Your improv has a lot of room for improvement, mister," Kate shot back through the comms.

Clint imagined Natasha smirking at him on her rooftop as she added, “Funny, I know a former handler of ours who would probably have said the same thing.”

"Guys, the weather outlook seems to have improved, so it looks like you can all come in. Steve says the turkey’s about done, and we need Bucky to start his magic with the mashed potatoes," Darcy interrupted.

Spiderman looked at Clint expectantly as he noticed Clint smiling. “So Hawkguy, is it cool if I crash your Avengers Thanksgiving bash?”

"Roger that base. The plus one is welcome?"

"Of course, silly! The more the merrier," Darcy answered. She looked over at Steve who had just pulled the turkey out of the oven to stand for a few minutes and giggled at the apron he had on. She was glad she brought a second one for Bucky, knowing that between her and Natasha, they’d get him to wear it.

Clint nodded and pulled the comm out of his ear. “You’re in, man. And you’re not crashing.”

If he could see through the mask, he was sure the kid was grinning. “Oh thanks, Hawkeye. Seriously.” Spiderman took his hand and shook it.

"Not a problem. And please, call me Clint."

Spiderman pulled up the bottom of his mask to reveal the bottom of his face. “If we weren’t in public, I’d show you my whole face. So later. But out of the suit, you can call me Peter.”

—-

Darcy had been going to set the large dining table for everyone when Steve pointed out that they didn’t know the exact number of people who’d be eating. She then suggested maybe a buffet-style type of serving of food would be easiest and everyone could seat themselves afterward, and Steve leaned over the counter and pressed a kiss to the corner of her lips.

Everyone had just about seated themselves with full plates when the ding of the elevator rang out. They all looked around, wondering who was missing or who was going to surprise them — there was plenty of food — when in walked someone they all thought was a ghost.

"Do you have room for one more?" A couple of pieces of silverware clattered to the table and a few curses were muttered quietly.

Steve somehow managed to compose himself first and immediately stood. “Of course, Agent Coulson!” He walked over to the man and gave him a firm handshake.

Darcy hurried over and gave him a big hug. “I’d been hoping Fury was a lying liar who lies. And I’m hoping your recovery is going well.”

"Thank you Miss Lewis," he replied quietly. "It has."

He looked over her shoulder and took in Natasha and Clint’s faces. “I’m sorry the reports of my death have been exaggerated so long. I wasn’t aware until recently.”

Darcy started filling up a plate for Coulson while he walked over to sit down in a space Natasha and Clint had cleared between them. Once everyone had reseated themselves and were about to start eating, Clint cleared his throat.

"So I guess before we eat, I just wanted to say thanks. It’s probably a good day for it, given that it’s Thanksgiving. We’ve kind of had a crazy year, and sometimes it seemed like there wasn’t always a lot to be thankful for, but sitting here with all of you now reminds me to be thankful for my team, my friends - new and old - and my family." He raised his glass, and everyone else joined in.

Kate caught his eye as she bumped shoulders with Noh-Varr and added, “To family!” The grouped echoed that sentiment as they completed the toast. Then the family dug in and ate.


	3. Did Your Parents Call You Mr. Feeny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Watching a favorite childhood TV show of Darcy's causes Bucky some deep thoughts.

"So which one do you think I am again?" Bucky asked, lazily lifting his head from the throw pillows he’d stacked against one end of the couch to look up as Darcy entered the living room of the large apartment in Brooklyn that he shared with Steve.

  
She pushed at his legs, as he was sprawled across the entire length of the couch, and he pulled them closer to himself so she could sit next to him. “What are you watching?”

  
He grappled for the remote, pulling up the guide, as he’d forgotten the name of the show. “Boy Meets World.”

  
She laughed, pushing up the sleeves on the oversized sweatshirt she was wearing. Her dark brown hair was down in loose waves, still damp from a shower. “I didn’t say you were one of them, but just that you sometimes reminded me of one of them. Mostly your and Steve’s friendship.”

  
He raised an eyebrow in challenge. “Is there something wrong with our friendship? Because I’ve been watching a few of these episodes now, and Shawn and Cory seem be pretty solid friends.”

  
She glanced at the episode that was on and figured out where in the run of the show it was from. “You haven’t hit their college years yet. That’s when it started to seem like Topanga was the third wheel to Shawn and Cory.” She grinned, patting his knee, and reached for the coffee she’d sat on the end table before sitting down.

  
"That’s … pretty co-dependent," he conceded, placing his right hand over the one she left on his knee.

  
"That’s putting it mildly, Bucky." She gave his hand a squeeze. "At least the show had a sense of humor about it."

  
He waited for her to take a long drink of her coffee before speaking again. “You still never said which one you think I am.” He chuckled as her eyes widened before she turned to glare at him.

  
"Not fair!" She grabbed one of the extra pillows behind her and threw it at his head, which he of course deflected. She made sure to set her cup of coffee down on the end table so it wouldn’t fall into harm’s way.

  
He reached for one of her hands and pulled her on top of him, one arm around her waist securing her to him. His free hand worked its way underneath the hem of her sweatshirt and started to trace light patterns on her skin. She hummed contentedly as she leaned down so her lips could find his, but just then the hand that was under her shirt found her ticklish spot. She arched her back as she squealed and giggled.

  
"Still not fair," she managed to say between bouts of laughter.

  
He smirked, alternating between gentle tickling and slowly kissing her senseless. “All’s fair in love and war, right?”

  
She worked one of her hands free and tangled it in his hair. “Did you use this show as a ploy? Was this some elaborate set-up?” She lightly bit the sensitive skin behind his ear that she knew drove him nuts, and then she was finally free of some of the tickling. She braced herself on top of him, as they were both breathing heavily.

  
"No," he breathed out, "I am genuinely curious." He pushed some of her hair behind her right ear and kissed her cheek.

  
"Well, right now I’d have to go with Shawn. He always was the ladies’ man." She rolled towards the back of the couch, and he scooted over to try to make room for both of them to lay next to each other.

  
He nodded. “Plus Steve tucks his shirts in.”

  
She giggled. “What an astute observation. Does this make Sharon Topanga?”

  
He had to chuckle at that thought. “Maybe? Meant to be a couple, sort of, by fate of being a Carter?”

  
The two heard a snort come from the kitchen. “You decide Steve is like Cory because he tucks his shirt in, and find deeper meaning in me being like Topanga. Wow, Barnes.”

  
Darcy began to laugh as Bucky’s eyes widened. “Um, sorry?” he called back.

  
They heard Sharon laugh. “Nothing to apologize for. I was just going to offer that I crimped my hair when I was in elementary school, like Topanga, so you didn’t have to wax philosophical. But whatever works.” Darcy laughed even harder as Bucky’s cheeks flushed. “Also, you two,” Sharon added, “make yourself decent in a few? I need to get my Feeny fix.”

  
"FEENY!" Darcy shouted, to Bucky’s confused. Sharon replied in kind.

  
Bucky shook his head, pulling Darcy close to him as he kissed her temple. “Sometimes, just when I think I start to understand pop culture, you go and do something like that.”

  
She grinned. “But you love me.”

  
"I do."


	4. Because ...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kate Bishop and Clint Barton arguing over what arrow is the best to use and why.

"Seriously, a flower bouquet arrow?" Kate crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the couch, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

Clint nodded. "Yes. A _parachute_ bouquet arrow."

"Oh, thank god there's a parachute. That makes so much more sense now!" She rolled her eyes and reached for the notepad that contained Clint's list of trick arrows. He was re-labeling them after an unfortunate incident after the first time he labeled them, and used a tear gas arrow when he'd meant to use a smoke arrow.

Clint smirked. "Make fun all you want, Katie-Kate, but it's come in handy more than once." He tore a piece of the tape he was using for labeling off of the roll and attached it to the shaft, just below the fletchings.

"I'd question the type of women you date who'd find that impressive, but I've seen a few examples." She put a check-mark next to ‘bouquet arrow,’ and waited for him to find another to check off the list.

Clint raised an eyebrow in challenge. "I'd watch your back the next time you're around Natasha." Kate shuddered at that thought. He grabbed the next arrow and rolled shaft between his fingers, testing the weight of it, as he remembered the type of arrow it was.

"Ah, one of my favorites — the constrictor! Haven't used it in a while, though." He began labeling it while Kate crossed it off the list. Lucky, who had been patiently sleeping next to her on the couch, stood up, moved closer, walked in a circle, and plopped down again to sleep. She scratched behind his ears and noticed Clint grinning at her.

"What?"

He shrugged. "Nothing. The dog's just weird, I guess."

Chuckling, she asked, "What does the constrictor do? And if it's so awesome, why don't I have one?"

"Because. And it shoots out a type of rope or tie that wraps itself around the person and constricts them, and then pins itself on the person's foot."

"Where the hell would you use that? I mean, how fast does it work?"

He shrugged again. "I used it often on ops where I'm up high and needed to take down a guard or two for the person on the ground, so that he or she could enter someplace. It's kinda quick, but I've got others that work faster."

She hummed in response, looking at the size of the list left to be checked off, and the pile of arrows left to be sorted. "Good lord Clint, if I didn't know you better, I'd almost say you are over-prepared."

"Someone's gotta be." He picked out another arrow.

She scanned the list. "Fireworks?"

"Great for a diversion or distraction." He began labeling a few arrows and setting them in a pile, apparently content to answer Kate's questions before checking these arrows off the list.

"Cushion?"

"Really, Katie-Kate? Do I need to explain that one?" He smirked.

Her cheeks reddened a bit, as she realized the usefulness of that one. "Point. But foam?"

"Any type of arrow on that list that has something that's slippery, like the _foam_ , or oil or grease, or even ink, allows you or a teammate valuable time to escape."

"Okay, I give. I still don't see a point to the bouquet, but so far, the rest seem to make some sense in certain situations," she conceded.

"Some day I'll show you a use for the bouquet," he promised. "If not you using it, maybe that space boy I've heard you talk about will find it helpful." He saw her ears redden.

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Photos of some of Clint’s trick arrows (from the comics) can be found here (http://images.wikia.com/marveldatabase/images/b/b9/Trick_Arrows_003.jpg), here (http://images.wikia.com/marveldatabase/images/f/fa/Trick_Arrows_002.jpg), and here (http://images.wikia.com/marveldatabase/images/e/ed/Trick_Arrows_001.jpg).


	5. Snow Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snow may have shut the city down, but people still need to be kept warm.

Darcy woke to a pounding on her door. She glanced at her clock and groaned. The pounding continued, so she sat up and found her glasses, and made her way to the door, throwing on an old robe along the way. A glance through the peephole left her groaning, and she unhooked the chain, opening the door slightly.

"Did I wake you?" the man asked.

She waved her hand up and down at the outfit she was wearing, a ‘duh’ implied. She then crossed her arms over her chest and leaned on the door frame, allowing the door to open a bit more.

"Shit, I’m sorry." The man’s shoulders slumped a bit.

She sighed. “There are these magical inventions called a phone, you know, Buck.”

"So I’ve heard." He pulled a cloth grocery bag out from behind his back. "But I’m hoping this might make it up to you."

She quirked an eyebrow. “Possibly.”

"I’m guessing this _phone_ you mentioned informed you that there’s a snow emergency in town,” he said, his lips turning up into a smile as he walked closer to her. She nodded. “And even though you already know that, and your neighbor across the hall keeps a ton of food in his apartment because he has like a bottomless stomach, and I’m not _that_ far away from you, I thought I’d maybe come make some brunch for you and me, and we could have a lazy snow day?”

She held one hand out to him, which he accepted, and she pulled him inside. “Hurry in, before Steve’s super soldier hearing picks up that you mentioned brunch!”

He grinned. “Should I be offended that you are mostly concerned about him hearing about brunch?” He sat the bag of food on kitchen counter, quickly putting the cold items into her fridge.

"Maybe I do have my priorities mixed up. But it’s early," she snarked.

"It’s almost ten, doll." He closed the refrigerator door and turned to find her standing in the doorway to her bedroom, one arm on either side of the door frame. The robe she’d had on earlier had been discarded, leaving her in just her pajamas. He felt his jaw drop a little, as these were pajamas he hadn’t seen before, and yes, he quite liked them.

"Isn’t ten a bit early for brunch?" Her smile turned a bit devilish when he nodded. "My room’s a bit cold. Can you help me with that before brunch?"

He nodded again and strode across the apartment, losing a few layers of clothing along the way. His hands found their way around her, pulling her close, as his lips crushed against hers. “Let’s see if we can find a way to warm you up.”


	6. Civil Procedure in Action

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If only all civil filings could be this interesting, Darcy thought.

Steve’s phone chimed, indicating he had a text message. Only a handful of people texted him, as he preferred talking on the phone over texting, but was was adapting. And of the people who would text him, there was only one who wasn’t around.

**Darcy** :  
ZOMG. Save me, Steve.  
 _9:46 a.m._

He felt himself tense up and thought to where he’d left his shield when his phone beeped again.

**Darcy** :  
I’m dying of boredom.  
 _9:46 a.m._

He relaxed, realizing how silly he’d been to jump to the worst conclusion so quickly. He knew if she were here she’d tease him mercilessly about it. And he’d let her because beneath her sarcastic exterior, he knew she would secretly be a little happy that he would’ve come charging to the rescue no questions asked, even though they both know she can fend for herself fairly well.

**Steve** :  
It’d be unfortunate if you died this early in the day.  
 _9:49 a.m._

**Darcy** :  
why?  
 _9:49 a.m._

**Steve** :  
Well, it’s Friday. So you’ve got the weekend coming.  
 _9:50 a.m._

**Darcy** :  
dont know if i can last that long … life force draining  
 _9:50 a.m._

**Steve** :  
What is the cause of all of this?  
 _9:51 a.m._

**Darcy** :  
speaker at this continuing ed thing.   
_9:51 a.m._

**Darcy** :  
probably even makes sex boring.   
_9:51 a.m._

**Steve** :  
What kind of continuing ed are you at?  
 _9:55 a.m._

**Darcy** :  
learning about updates to rules of civil procedure. scintillating stuff.  
 _9:55 a.m._

**Steve** :  
How would sex come into play?  
 _9:57 a.m._

Darcy crossed her legs, bouncing her foot as she reread Steve’s last few texts. She imagined his confusion and slight anger, which is most of the reason he didn’t care for texting — he couldn’t detect sarcasm and teasing as easily as be could in verbal communication. She grinned to herself, rested her elbows on the table she was sitting at for the conference, and typed into her phone.

**Darcy** :  
I find the rules sexy. For instance, you always have enough contacts with me for personal jurisdiction.  
 _10:00 a.m._

**Darcy** :  
And I’d never give you Rule 11 sanctions.  
 _10:00 a.m._

**Darcy** :  
Plus, I think there will be permissive joinder, Rule 20, of the parties (you + me) tonight.  
 _10:01 a.m._

**Darcy** :  
Perhaps we can conduct discovery tonight, too? ;-)  
 _10:01 a.m._

She leaned back in her chair, feeling pretty satisfied with making the rules sound dirty. Now she just needed to see how Steve would respond.

Several minutes passed without a reply, and she worried that she overdid it. She knew that if she’d say those things to him with a wink, he’d laugh. But reading them, maybe they came off a bit creepy. She decided to let him reply when he was ready rather than text him further and turned her attention back to the speaker.

_______________________

Steve was using a combination of Google and Wikipedia, trying to come up with a witty response to Darcy’s texts, but he knew nothing about these rules.

"Hey Steve! You look like you’re thinking too hard! Let’s go grab a bite cuz I’m starving." Bucky walked into the room without knocking, as he always did. Steve’s head popped up, and he was tempted to cover the Stark pad he was using.

"Um, Buck, I gotta pass." He noticed Bucky eyeing the tablet with interest.

"Why do you look like I walked in on you looking a dirty magazine or something?" Bucky smirked.

Steve sighed. “You didn’t.” He handed the tablet to Bucky. “Darcy sent me a bunch of texts earlier while she was bored at some continuing ed thing, and then …,” he paused and handed his phone to Bucky with the last few texts up, “this.” He felt his face redden, but he knew that Bucky be able to play a little Cyrano for him, or give him a few pointers.

Bucky, naturally, took to text messaging quickly, and loved teasing both him and Darcy via text. His greatest fear was realized when Bucky met Darcy, as the two seemed to be sarcastic/flirty separated at birth siblings, who, when teamed up, often proved to be a force to be reckoned with.

After reading the texts, Bucky looked back up at Steve with a quasi-evil gleam in his eyes. “Oh Steve, I think between the two of us, we can surely come up with a fantastic response.”

_________________________

**Steve** :  
Counselor, would like to file motion to compel. Ditch rest of seminar & meet me @ apt to begin discovery ASAP. Lunch & dinner & breakfast will be provided.  
 _10:45 a.m._

**Darcy** :  
No objections. See you in 15. Love you.   
_10:47 a.m._

**Steve** :  
Love you, too.  
 _10:47 a.m._


	7. Dig If You Will the Picture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you my darling /  
> Can you picture this?

While the music tastes of the various Avengers and friends varied, often some musicians and bands had cross-appeal. Prince was one such musician. It wouldn't be odd to find bopping around the kitchen on a common floor, JARVIS quietly, or not-so-quietly, providing an eclectic soundtrack for her while she fixed herself a snack, or made herself lunch. It seemed that she always had a musical accompaniment, either out-loud or through her iPod, wherever she went.

Today, she was in the middle of making a variation of grilled cheese sandwiches that had pizza toppings in them, when Clint appeared.

"No tunes?" he asked, hopping up on a nearby bar stool to watch her cook. Pointing at the white ear bud in her ear, she rapped his knuckles with the spatula as he tried to steal some of the fixings for her sandwiches.

"Not today, my feathered friend. S'all up here." She flipped the sandwich over, smiling as nothing slipped out. It was a bit overstuffed to not be using a panini maker.

Clint rolled his eyes. "JARVIS, would you be so kind as to share Darcy's music with the room?" He reached back over to her food prep area and snagged a slice of pepperoni. A familiar guitar riff filled the room. "Aw, you were holding out on Prince? Darce, you wound me," he added, dramatically putting his right hand over his heart.

"Maybe I just didn't feel like feeding a whole flock," she snarked back, sliding her finished sandwich on to the spatula and then on to her plate. "And before you whine, yes, I can continue with the bird puns all day. I have been storing them up for both you and Sam, but as luck would have it, I saw you first." She took a bite of her sandwich and smiled.

"I don't know if I believe this Sam guy exists, since I have yet to meet him." Clint leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. Darcy laughed, and shook her head.

"He exists," Steve answered, walking into the room. Darcy sighed and started to put together the makings for more sandwiches. "And I'm sure he's thinking the same thing about you, Clint."

Bucky, like a shadow stepped out from behind Steve and looked up at the ceiling. "I've heard a dove cry, and it's not like this." Everyone stopped what they doing and looked at him. He didn't often join Steve with group things, and if he did, rarely spoke. She had recently started trying to catch him up on some pop culture, as Steve himself was still woefully behind, in her opinion.

He caught Darcy's eyes before continuing, "It was more like this," and then made a horrible screeching noise. JARVIS, in all of his infinite AI wisdom, didn't stop the music, so the silence that followed Bucky's noise wasn't completely awkward.

Darcy noticed the look on Steve's face that was a mix of horror, awe, and curiosity, and then the completely blank, confusion look on Clint's face, before seeing the small spark of mischief in Bucky's eye. She burst out laughing, and at this, a small crooked smile crossed Bucky's face before he chuckled, and then he slapped Steve's shoulder.

"Doves don't cry, Stevie. Your sense of humor still a little frozen?" He walked past Steve and sat down on another open bar stool. The smile that spread across Steve's face could have lit up the room, and he quickly sat at the last open bar stool.

"So you boys all want sandwiches?" Darcy asked, including Clint as well. She noticed he was smiling as well. JARVIS continued to play a variety of Prince songs as she cooked.

Later, much later, whenever a horrible bird-like screeching noise popped up in a movie or TV show, Clint would turn to Bucky, if he was in the room, and ask if that was what it sounded like when a dove cried.


End file.
